Analyze This
by Martin Baker
Summary: All grown up now, Christopher Robin is a psychologist with a haunted past who still finds his way to The Hundred Acre Wood. As his life grows ever more challenging, so to do the lives of his friends.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One:

In which the gang settles in to their new office and Christopher Robin reflects.

"This is it guys! Christopher Robin gestured expansively around the small office with its comfortable furniture.

"But," Pooh said, perplexed "where will you sleep Christopher Robin?"

"Silly old bear." Christopher Robin laughed and hugged Pooh close. "This isn't a bedroom. It's my brand new office."

"This is your doctor's office?" Roo asked. Christopher Robin nodded, ruffling the joey's pink ears affectionately.

"Hmmmm." Rabbit twitched his whiskers thoughtfully. "It doesn't look like a doctor's office. Where's the big bed? Where's the stethoscope and the thing that takes your blood pressure?"

All his animal friends knew what the inside of a doctor's office looked like from the times he'd taken one or another with him as a small boy. Now, a handsome man in his mid thirties, Christopher Robin took them to the office in the belief they would help his patients as much as they'd helped him.

"I'm not that kind of doctor, Rabbit," he explained, his green eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. You're thinking of a body doctor. I'm a head doctor."

"A head doctor?" Tigger asked. "You mean you put people's heads back on when they drop off?"

"No no no." "I help people with hurt feelings. People get their feelings scraped all the time. Fights with friends, being misunderstood..."

"Being squashed flat by boxes of books," Eeyore broke in.

"Huh?" Christopher Robin looked, quickly taking the box off the gray donkey. "Oh! Sorry Eeyore."

"Don't mention it," the donkey replied gloomily.

"Anyway," Christopher Robin went on "those kinds of hurt feelings people can mend on their own. But sometimes, something so terrible happens to a person's feelings that it's like having an arm or leg broken. That's when they come to a doctor like me."

Everybody nodded. Sometimes it took his friends a long time to understand basic concepts, but Christopher Robin didn't mind. One of the things he loved best about his gang of furry helpers was the way they maintained the fresh unblemished innocence of childhood long after he himself had grown out of it. Pooh's stomach rumbled loudly.

"It's eleven o'clock," Christopher Robin observed, unpacking a tea set from a well-padded box. "Let's eat."

Everybody gathered at a low table near the window. He'd had it put here for just this reason. It was low so the animals could sit comfortably and long to accommodate all the extra chairs. There were more chairs and more table space than they needed in case patients who brought animals wanted to sit theirs here with his.

"Here you are, Roo dear." Kanga began passing out iced tea in little cups and sandwiches on matching plates. "Here you are, Tigger darling."

Christopher Robin smiled. The kangaroo and the tiger had been married for some years now. He had presided over the ceremony himself at the enchanted place at the top of the forest. He remembered with amusement the odd look the seamstress gave him when he brought Kanga in for a custom-made bridal gown. The old woman's confusion grew when, a week later, he brought Tigger in for a custom-made tuxedo.

"Aren't you a little old to play with stuffed animals?" she had asked the third time Christopher Robin came. This time, he brought Roo in for a custom-made tuxedo and ring-bearer's pillow.

"No ma'am," he had replied. She sighed. Business was business. All the others opted not to wear suits, or he would have been back many more times. He didn't care what people thought, and though the little outfits were expensive, money was no object. Christopher Robin came from money after all. Kanga wore the ring, a heart-shaped opal set with flecks of jade, on a thin silver chain around her neck. Tigger was afraid of losing his, so he kept it safe in the house the three animals now shared. It was bigger than the one they had before with a nursery near Roo's room. Being toys in addition to different species, Christopher Robin didn't suppose they'd ever have a baby, but he didn't say so.

"Here you are, Christopher Robin dear." Kanga set his plate and cup before him.

"Thank you Kanga." He smiled at her. Serving herself, Kanga sat happily between Tigger and Roo.

The friends munched in silence for a time. Then Piglet asked "How will the people with hurt feelings know where your office is?"

"Good question, Piglet," Christopher Robin replied. "I advertized. I wrote to newspapers and put up a website telling about where we are and what we can do for people. I also put our office on lots of different lists so people can find us in a hurry if they need to.

"I don't suppose very many will come," mused Eeyore.

"Nonsense, Eeyore!" Owl said crossly. "Of course they will."

"It doesn't matter." Christopher Robin shrugged. "If even one person comes, it's all worth it." His eyes strayed to a picture sitting on his computer desk and he closed them. He didn't need to see it. He knew the picture by heart. Amy, a girl with red hair and blue eyes smiled out of the frame where she sat on an old porch swing. In her arms, a black and white puppy looked out at the camera with wide, excited eyes. The puppy had been a present from Christopher Robin just six months before the picture was taken.. The porch swing belonged to his parents. It was the summer before their senior year, and Amy's parents had agreed to let their daughter spend the summer with her boyfriend and his family. It had been the best summer of Christopher Robin's life. He smiled whistfully.

"Don't think about it," Kanga said softly. "The past is the past."

"You're right." But how they had laughed. How they had loved each other. He shook his head as if to clear it, looking in to his shallow tea cup as if it held the depth of a thousand unanswered questions.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

In which Piglet receives a mysterious letter

When all had finished their early lunch, Tigger cleared away the dishes, stopping to lay a kiss on top of Kanga's head. Christopher Robin regretfully set to work at his computer desk. The fact that paperwork could now be done online made it no less tedious. Owl perched on the desk beside him to lend advice about the endless documents in his inbox. Since the other animals couldn't think of any way they could help, they wished him good luck and returned to The Hundred Acre Wood.

"Come see me after work, Christopher Robin," Pooh said over his shoulder. "We need to talk about bees and model airplanes." Christopher Robin grinned, promising he would before going back to work.

For his part, Rabbit was glad to be back in his own garden. It was wonderful to feel the yielding warmth of living earth beneath his paws, his quivering nostrils alive with the pungent aroma of growing things. The carrots needed harvesting, and there was so much work to be done! It seemed like he was always working. If he wasn't cultivating his precious vegetables, he was re-cultivating them from the ravages of insects, time, or Tigger.

Ah, Tigger. One would think marriage would have settled him down a bit. One would be wrong. He was more bouncy than ever now that he was officially off the market. Rabbit sighed. There was a time when he and Tigger had been lovers. Their love affair had lasted from the beginning to the end of one winter. Then Tigger had said goodbye. It was, of course, expected, but that didn't make it hurt any less. They hadn't intended for it to last. It had been a one night stand. Then one night had turned in to two until shafts of sun began to melt the thick layer of snow that covered The Hundred Acre Wood like a blanket. Rabbit told himself that Tigger wasn't the kind to settle down, but he had settled. The fact that Tigger waited five years before courting Kanga did nothing to soothe the stabbing disillusionment that wrapped around Rabbit like a cloak.

Piglet too was wrapped in a cloak of raw feeling on this fine Spring day. He sighed, pondering over the note in his paws for what must have been the fifth time in as many minutes.

"My Dearest Piglet," the note said.

"I am writing you this note to tell you that I have always loved you, not that it matters very much, but there it is. I love your selflessness, the way you laugh, and the light in your eyes when you watch the setting sun. I love your insight. I love the way you dance when you think no one is watching. As long as you know you are loved, that you have made a life full by your existence, it is enough for me."

"I remain,"

"Your Secret Admirer."

That afore mentioned cloak of raw feeling was one of confusion. What was a secret admirer? Piglet was at a loss. Was a secret admirer someone you didn't tell your friends about? Or, was a secret admirer someone who didn't tell his friends about you? A thought occurred to the small animal very suddenly. It was a thought so startling he had to sit down. What if – what if the note was from Pooh? Piglet had always fancied his bear friend in a more than friends sort of way.

While Piglet's heart was leaping in his small chest, Roo was playing leapfrog with the green frog that lived in the pond. On the shore, his smiling parents watched with soft eyes. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but the murmur of their voices drifted to him on the fresh breeze that ruffled his fur.

"I love our life," Tigger was saying seriously.

"Aww Tigger." Kanga smiled, resting her cheak against his forehead. "So do I."

He kissed her softly, their noses brushing. "He's so beautiful." Tigger looked fondly out at their small son who was making his way back across the water. "Let's have another one?"

"I suppose that can be arranged." Kanga smiled at her husband of seven years. Though this was a conversation they'd had a thousand times before, it lost none of its simple joy in the repetition. The only thing lost through the fullness of time was Kanga's certainty they would indeed be able to have another child. Through no lack of trying, the pair had met with no success. She thought of how Tigger was the only one of his kind and wondered if the others had died out as a result of infertility. She knew it shouldn't matter. Roo filled their home with laughter and the light bounding step of young paws. Then why did her pulse beat like the ticking of a grandfather clock in the empty entrance hall of some vastly sprawling mansion? Why did the ticking heat her blood, filling her consciousness with the knowledge that something vital was lacking?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

In which Pooh tells Christopher Robin his plan.

There was definitely something lacking, and Winnie the Pooh knew exactly what that something was. Honey. Looking balefully at the row of empty honey pots sitting on his shelf, he thought. For a bear of very little brain, thinking was no easy task, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Someone knocked on the front door, and Pooh went to answer it. Christopher Robin stood outside the old tree, smiling in at his friend with amusement.

"Come in!" Pooh flung the door wide. "I've been expecting you."

"Yes, I know." Christopher Robin shut the door behind him. "Something about model airplanes?"

"Precisely." Pooh sat down again. "Do you remember when I went up to the bees nest with a balloon?"

"Of course, Pooh," Christopher Robin laughed. "You were trying to fool them in to believing you were a little black cloud."

"It was awfully clever," Pooh said with a self-satisfied smile "but for the bees, I'm afraid it wasn't awfully clever enough. What I need is something bigger, something eye-catching like a giant bee."

"A giant bee?" Christopher Robin asked. "But Pooh, where can we get one of those?"

"Well Christopher Robin," Pooh began excitedly "I'm glad you asked. All we need is a bear who can drive a model airplane, that's me, a boy who can paint a model airplane to look like a bee, that's you, and a good strong wind. I'll fly up to the hive, and the bees will be so happy to meet another bee they'll give the honey away with great big bee smiles."

"I don't know, Pooh," Christopher Robin said dubiously. "It sounds pretty risky."

But by this time, Pooh noticed the bulging bag Christopher Robin was carrying, the lid of a honey jar peaking over its rim. "Is that for me?" Pooh asked.

"Of course." Christopher Robin handed the honey jars to Pooh one by one. "Silly old bear."

Piglet was picking the petals off a daisy one by one. "He loves me? He loves me not. He loves me? He loves me not. He loves…"

"Hello there Pigalet!" Tigger called, bouncing by. His arms were full of freshly picked wild flowers from a nearby field, and he was headed home to give them to his lovely wife. Was there ever such a glorious day as this? The ground was alive beneath his paws, and the wind whistled through his ears with every bounce. Every time he went up, Tigger wondered if he would fly away, floating through the sky on the path to his house like an orange and black striped cloud. Or was it a black and orange striped cloud?

Roo watched the clouds roll by in a state of anxious joy. He liked watching clouds. Most of the time, he could watch them for hours, but today was different. Today was one of those extra special days made for waiting like Christmas Eve or the day before Roo's birthday. Today, Christopher Robin told Roo they were going to something called a garage sale to look for a model airplane for Pooh. It was great fun going anywhere outside the wood with Christopher Robin, but what made it even better was, Christopher Robin was only taking Roo! The boy was always taking one animal or another to a special place. He said this was so they would each get some of his quality time. Roo loved quality time.

Eeyore loved Piglet. He loved him with an obsessive joy that contrasted with his gloomy disposition. His eyes reflected that joy, flashing as he pulled the letter from the tree. He never dreamed Piglet would write him a letter back and put it in the place Eeyore's letter had been. He ran all the way home with the precious paper, for once thankful no one noticed him. In the solitude of his house, a house Piglet had built for him so many years ago; Eeyore opened the letter and began to read.

"Dear um," the letter began in a quavering script. "Dear Somebody,"

"Gosh! It was awfully nice of you to say so many nice things about me but, well, that is to say, what if you're strange? Or scary? Or horribly terribly boring? Or, a girl? I don't like girls, so if you're a girl, I'm really awfully sorrowfully sorry to hurt your feelings. Wait! Kanga's the only girl in the wood, so you can't be one of those. Good. Can you give me a hint? I hate to be pessimistic like Eeyore but, well, if you're scary, I'd like to know so I don't keep writing letters. Thanks."

"Love? No. Your Friend? No, no that's not it either. Owl says I should sign it, ""I REMAIN VERY CONFUSED, PIGLET."

Eeyore chuckled, folding the letter so small it fit in the useful pot Pooh had given him long ago for a birthday present. There it rested, laying beside the balloon Piglet had given him. Eeyore doubted he'd ever get another letter, but he'd write back just the same. Holding a red fountain pen between his teeth, Eeyore put it at the top of a blank sheet of white paper and began to write.

"Most Adorable Piglet,"…


End file.
